


Better off Here

by Meadow Lion (Meadow_Lion)



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Banter, Drama, Erotica, F/M, Missing Scene, Plot What Plot, Romance, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-16
Updated: 2007-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow_Lion/pseuds/Meadow%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt was "possibilities"; for Denny and Izzie, here is a moment that could have been.</p><p>There are no direct spoilers, and I won't specify when I feel the story is set, but it will work better for you with knowledge of series events through at least the season two finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better off Here

**Author's Note:**

> I nabbed this title from a song of the same name by Glen Philips. [](http://sandrine.livejournal.com/profile)[**sandrine**](http://sandrine.livejournal.com/) and [](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/profile)[**oxoniensis**](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/) went over the piece for me but bear no responsibility for any problems within it.

Denny is hooked to wires and tubes and monitors (oh, my). Some go places he'd rather that only he and one other person went. . . . And, easy as the thought, Izzie appears.

"Hey," she says gently, like he's a hibernating bear.

"Hey, yourself." He smiles. "You need something?"

Her answering smile brightens the dimness. "Me? No, I'm okay."

Denny beckons to her. "Just 'okay'? Shit. If my doctor isn't fantastic, what're my chances? I may have to sue this hospital."

Closing the door and blinds filtering hallway light, she perches on his bed. "Better?"

"You tell me." He slides his right hand -- wired, damn it -- around her waist.

"Definitely."

Neither of them starts the kiss; it just happens and keeps happening. Izzie's lips move softly under his. He traces them with his tongue, licking into her mouth when she opens, sweet and wanting, for him.

Izzie tastes him with slow, lazy flicks of her tongue. He cups her breasts. Moaning, she bites his lip. His breath hitches, and she pulls away instantly. Her fingers blur through the dark to cover her mouth. "Oh, God. We can't do this."

"Sure we can." He flips on the fluorescent above his bed. It's harsh, but he needs to see her, to have her see him. Her eyes are wide, her lips flushed. He grasps her hand. He can't help himself. "You're so warm."

Blinking, Izzie sighs. "And you're so . . ."

"Cold? Weak? Horny?"

"Incredible. Alive. I want you to stay that way."

He exhales steadily over their hands. "Good thing you're my doctor and can keep an eye on me. No hands on me, not in the best places, but -- just let _me_ touch _you_ , Izzie. Please. Let me feel as alive as you think I am." Denny grins. "I promise not to get too excited."

"You might not be able to keep that promise," she says, her mouth a blooming snapdragon, "since I'm so _warm_."

"Try me." Their lips meet again.

Izzie straddles him loosely with her knees braced outside his thighs, not resting her weight against him. She shivers, butterfly-quick, as he skims his right hand under her shirt to her breasts. His palm grazes the curves, her lacy bra tickling him. Her teeth scrape his tongue, and her hands frame his face while she kisses him senseless.

He doesn't need sense for his left hand, free of wires. Undoing her jeans, his fingers slip between panties and soft skin to the curls below. He strokes thick, wet lines along her cleft. She breaks the kiss, panting.

"I could watch you like this forever." Denny kisses her neck, where she smells of warm vanilla. His left hand keeps its rhythm, his right working with hers to push her shirt and bra out of the way.

He massages her clit, and Izzie arches into him, over him, onto him. He licks tightening concentric rings around her breasts. She tastes like honey and almonds in the sunshine. He sucks her nipple like a bee after nectar.

She groans. "Fuck. Anytime you want."

"I'll hold you to that." Denny eases one strong finger into her. She's sticky and warm. He aches to know she's honey-sweet there, too. He shifts his mouth to her other nipple and pumps his finger. Rocking her hips, Izzie accepts a second finger hungrily. Her hands grip his shoulders. He adds a third finger and retakes her mouth. She'll hear him gasping otherwise.

His heart isn't even the problem. It's her rapturous face while she rides his fingers; the hot, seismic clench of her so close to his helpless erection; and that flavor on his tongue. She must taste the same everywhere, because her mouth echoes that sweetness. He gulps for more, and she turns her head away, stills her motion.

"Denny. Stop. Are you okay?"

He laughs outright, hiding the thunder in his chest and monitors. "Darling, I haven't felt this okay in years."

Izzie grabs and bites his right thumb. "Seriously. _I_ can't breathe. How can you? How can you stand giving me all this without getting anything?"

"You're giving me everything," Denny says. "Let go."

"I can't. I can't." Her thighs tighten, trapping his fingers into stillness -- and so much heat. He expects her to close her eyes, but they're open wide, the bright flare of sunset above the dusky flush of her cheeks. "I'm worried about you."

He takes a slow, deep breath trying to ease the pressure, while she watches and waits. The fingers of his free hand splay across her cheek, his thumb smoothing the crushed petal of her lower lip. Finally he says, "I know. You have a right to be."

"Yeah, that's why they gave me all the fancy, expensive medical degrees." Her mouth slants beneath his touch. "So?"

"So, my rights trump yours, and I say, being here with you . . ." He breathes again, leaning in to brush his tongue over her soft nipples, her collarbone, her earlobes. His mouth still on her skin, he continues, "tasting you, seeing you while you're this hot and wet, in my hands and in my bed . . ."

He hates having this operating table on wheels be the bed they're sharing, but it matters less every moment he's close to Izzie. Her stance is relaxing. He drags his hand up and back between her legs, as slowly as he can stand. She sighs, and it turns into his name at the end.

Tipping his head back against the pillow, Denny looks at her face while he touches her. "No worry in the world is enough to make me give up how you feel to me now. How you're making me feel -- God, Izzie."

Starting to move again, she draws in his fingers more deeply and rubs her clit against his palm. She holds his gaze. The backs of her hands blaze a trail down his torso before resting at his hips as she rolls her own. She says fiercely, "Promise me something else."

His heart echoes her indrawn breaths, her body's quickening pulse. He doesn't need to thrust, just let her take him. "Anything."

"I reciprocate once you're better."

"I promise." Twisting his fingers inside her, he kisses her and whispers with all his strength, "Come for me."

Izzie whimpers into his mouth, her eyes shining like fireflies in a storm. He guides her through, and she settles beside him. Denny is hard and shaken and surrounded by Izzie (oh, my). And he'll cherish this the rest of his life.

  


\- end - 

  



End file.
